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User blog:Bane7670/Short Story: New Beginning
What follows is the original prologue I had written for Darth Maul—Survival, but ultimately decided to omit for reasons which I will explain in the postlude. While it is relevant to Ahsoka's role in Survival, it should be considered a separate story. ---- Over the course of the past two years, I’ve awoken to a lot of different things. My bedside alarm chrono in the Temple, verbally by my friends, my comlink, a Venator’s alert sirens, a warning shout—the kind used by soldiers on a battlefield—telling me to move if I wanted to live, Force-induced dreams that turned sour, and a friendly reminder from Madam Jocasta that I was starting to drool on the desktop of my Archive workstation. Most of these things, as you can tell, aren’t very pleasant things to awake to. Which was what made waking up to a ray of sunlight in my eyes all the more refreshing. My eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the bright light shining through my apartment window. I rolled onto my side and faced the golden sunrise, cherishing its warmth on my cheeks. Okay, to call it a sunrise is being generous. The sun was already well into the sky by the time I’d awoken. It felt weird to sleep in, after all those mornings of needing to wake up in time for whatever the day had to throw at me, whether it was on the front lines or in the Temple. I always had to hit the ground running. Not today though. Not for a month now. It sounded strange to think that. It had been a month since my trial, since I’d left the Jedi Order behind. It felt like only yesterday. Everything that had happened that day was still raw in my mind. It was in no way a pleasant feeling to live with. I’d passed the point when it was constantly on my mind, but it was still there whenever I drifted off, ready to remind me of why I was here, instead of service to the Order. I didn’t regret my decision to leave, and I still don’t. It was the reminder of everything that had led up to my estrangement from the Council, from the Order, even from my own master. I never blamed Anakin, of course. To be honest, I never really knew who to blame, or even if that blame fell on just one person. All I knew was that I was no longer welcome in that Temple. I was no longer welcome in my home. I didn’t have a home any longer. It was lost. I watched the skylanes beyond my apartment building cast its various shadows across the golden beams of the morning sun, bustling with commuters, freight lifters, taxis, and the occasional military vehicle. Every now and again, I thought I saw a Jedi airspeeder. In the instances when I was right, I wondered who was in that speeder, where they were headed, and what purpose their mission would serve. Then I inevitably started to think back to when I was in their position, and how odd it seemed to be watching it on the outside. Was there ever a former Jedi who was watching me and Skyguy on a mission and thinking the same thing? Two years ago, I never would have dreamed of leaving the Order. Now… what if I never left the Jedi Order I committed my life to? What if everyone else moved away from it? From me? Fortunately, a distraction came along. As you might suspect at this point, I took them whenever I found them. I peered over to my personal comlink on the table next to my bed. The red indicator light was blinking. I hastily grabbed it and thumbed the activator. Its holographic display showed me exactly what I’d been waiting to see. NEW MESSAGE FROM: hudan2249 My heart skipped a beat. It was from Penny’s private comlink. She’d finally returned from her mission, or at least found time to send me a message. I didn’t care which. I’d been waiting for this ever since I left the Temple. Republic Intelligence had shipped her out to handle something on Cato Neimoidia the day I went on the run. She arranged a transport to Level 1313 for me just before she left… I owed her a lot more than I thought at the time. I was almost afraid to read her message. There were so many ways she could have reacted to what happened. Even after two years of our relationship, I had no way of predicting her feelings about this. But of course, I had only one way of knowing for certain. I opened the message’s transcript. : Ahsoka, : I don’t know where to start. I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to get back to you. I wish I could’ve done more for you. I couldn’t even be there for you. I’m so sorry. I let out a sigh. She was blaming herself for going where her superiors told her. I could’ve predicted this much. : I would have gotten back to you sooner, but apparently there’s a war going on that we’re no closer to winning than before. Cato Neimoidia was a wild bantha chase. I could have opted for an alternative to my mission… but that would have just given me another assignment to follow, which would mean I’d still be working on it. : Now I’m not. I’ve been granted a month’s leave. Not my length of choice, but it’s enough to get back to you. You remember that fancy apartment HQ set me up with? Meet me there tonight at 17:00 hours. I’ll take care of you. : Love, Penny I found myself rereading the message as I thought about finally seeing her again. It made my heart do several backflips, but that was normal. What was new about this time was that… it would be the first time we met together and we didn’t have to worry about anyone finding out. It took me a couple minutes to realize that. I wasn’t a Jedi anymore. I was free to have any relationships I wanted without fear of someone knowing about it. It was such a liberating feeling, I actually can’t believe it hadn’t occurred to me sooner. It made me all the more eager to see her again. Which, naturally, made the hours between getting up and meeting her at her apartment go agonizingly slow. I even left half an hour early, and it still felt like an eternity just traveling from one part of Galactic City to the other. And it didn’t help that it takes a long time to get anywhere in Galactic City anyway. I was mentally rehearsing possible things to say to her when I saw her on the speeder bus ride to the apartment. But my mind went blank when I was standing in the hallway outside her door, which in all honesty was probably for the best. I hesitated from ringing the door chime a few times, which figured. I could finally be open about my relationship, and I was at a loss because I didn’t know where I belonged. All I had was my Jedi tunic and a duffel bag filled with spare clothes and the few credits I had left. The door opened while I was still considering my circumstances. Penny stood there in the doorway, still in her Republic Intel fatigues. When I met her eyes, there was only one thing I could think at that point: She is the only person I want to be with now. “Ahsoka,” she said a split second before she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around my neck. We embraced each other so tightly I thought we’d never part. Every time we embraced before we had to part ways, I never wanted to let go. I never knew when I would see her again, or if I would see her again. The combination of Jedi beliefs and the war called off any guarantees. But now, one of them was removed from the equation. Again, talk about liberation. When she finally pulled away, she tried to apologize again. “Ahsoka, I’m so—” I pressed my lips against hers to silence her. “Don’t be,” I said, when we parted. She rested her forehead against mine and bore her beautiful eyes into me. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” I replied. Aside from the whirlpool of emotions I went through last month, my suppressed remark added. “Much better now.” “Good,” she said with her signature smirk. “I love you.” I knew her well enough to read the concern that lay just behind her eyes, but she was willing to ignore it for my sake. “I love you,” I responded. We stood there for the next minute or so, in each other’s arms. I got the best feeling in the universe, knowing for once that nothing would come between us. I glanced into her apartment and nodded towards it. “So, are you going to invite me in, or am I staying in the hallway tonight?” Penny’s smile broadened. “Cute.” She stepped aside, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Come on in. “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to get cleaned up,” she explained as she led me into the kitchen. “I only just got back.” “Would you rather I leave and come back later?” I teased, admiring the extravagant apartment. “No,” she said firmly, tightening her grip on me slightly. “I want you here.” I looked at her again and smirked. “If you insist.” “I do.” She kissed my forehead and took my bag. “I just need a minute to shower and change.” She walked off to the bedroom. “You can get settled. Help yourself to anything in the conservator. It was just stocked, courtesy of Republic Command.” “Still living off of military spending?” I joked. I expected her to make a face or a sarcastic remark or something similar. But instead, she stopped in the doorway to the bedroom, looked at me and said, “I already told you, I live off of my time with you.” Penny Hudan is a unique type of life form. She’s the kind that knows how to make you smile on a bad day. While she showered, I changed in her spacious bedroom into what could generously be called leisure clothes: brown-green cargo pants and a dark gray vest. It was in no way my style, but then again I’d never really thought about how my clothing looked until then. And in hindsight, it was a lot more comfortable than my Padawan suit. After I was done evaluating my appearance for the first time in months, I admired her bedroom. It was fully furnished with a wide transparisteel window displaying a gorgeous view of the Entertainment District. Republic Command really spared no expense for their operatives. And people wondered why military spending was taking such a big bite out of the Senate’s budget. Not that I didn’t think Penny deserved it, mind you. I like to think that if more spending had been devoted to her, the war would be won already. But if I was being honest with myself right then, politics and war were the last things I wanted to talk about. Penny seemed to know it already. Bless her heart, she could sense what I was feeling so well. She gave me another big hug after she changed, which I can honestly say I needed. But even so, we both knew we couldn’t avoid the subject on both of our minds. I decided to start things off. “I understand you read about what happened,” I said, reluctantly pulling out of our embrace. She nodded somberly and gestured towards the lounge chairs in front of the window. “Yes, but I want to hear about it, from you. Have a seat and tell me all about it.” Surprisingly enough, it felt good to talk to Penny about it, about everything that had happened. I could throw out all kinds of psychobabble about how addressing your problems in discussion is good for the soul—I’m no psychologist—but in truth, I got a slightly better grip on what happened as I told Penny about it. I would shift my gaze from Penny’s attentive eyes to the horizon outside the apartment, periodically watching the sunset and reminiscing on the day I left the Temple. For the past six weeks, the only thing I could think about from it all was my alienation from the Council. Now I could step back and get the full picture. Another part of it was simply the opportunity to talk with Penny again. It took me back to the days aboard the Resolute, when Penny and I would meet up between missions. A time when it felt like everything else—all our other problems—just vanished for a time. It was just us. When my story was over, Penny let maybe twenty seconds of silence pass before saying anything probably to ensure that she didn’t cut off any last-minute details. I figured she’d say something like, “They never should have expelled you,” or “You have greater things ahead.” The things I’d tried telling myself back then. She only said, “I’m sorry.” I smiled at her. “Don’t be. What’s done is done,” I replied, feeling like I could actually accept that now. “Whatever you need…” she began, but trailed off hesitantly. She offered her unending support for me, but felt like it wasn’t enough. Penny was a perceptive one, which explained why she worked for Republic Intel, but she often underestimated how much good she was capable of doing. “Thank you, Penny,” I said in as warm a tone as I knew how. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. It really means a lot.” She returned the smile but, Penny being Penny, couldn’t stop with that. “I wish I could do more.” After nearly two years of a start-and-stop relationship, that feeling of dissatisfaction was understandable. But now, unlike before, I had all the time in the galaxy to show just how grateful I was. “But you can,” I told her. “It’s all behind us now. Now I’m free any time you need me. I’m my own person. I'm yours.” I was never good at dismissing Penny's doubts, but this time, her warm smile told me she was convinced. “And,” I added wryly. “A good place to start would be dinner.” On that remark, she went back to spry, quick-witted Penny. “Well, you’re in luck. On my way back from Cato Neimoidia, I had some brief downtime in a spaceport. There was a market there, and I picked up a little something special for tonight.” She stood from her chair and walked slowly past my chair, giving me a playful look. She was hard to read when she wanted to be. I humored her. “And what’s the special tonight?” Kneeling down next to me, she brought her face in close to the side of my head, maintained a few suspenseful moments, and then whispered, “Chandrilian tendermeat.” My mouth started watering at the name. She knew that was one of my favorites. “That sounds like doing more to me,” I responded. “A lot more.” She winked at me and walked to the kitchen. “I aim to please.” And please she did. The tendermeat tasted exquisite, in no small part because Penny prepared it perfectly. The fact that Penny prepared and shared the meal with me was probably the main reason why I enjoyed it so much. We chatted well into the night, even after we left the table. Penny began playing her personal music collection, providing a serene atmosphere. I myself lost all sense of time, which was what made that evening—or any time I spend with her—so amazing. It’d been far too long since I felt this good, this relaxed. Sitting there in front of the window, with her in my lap, her head resting on my shoulder, I felt something brand new. After everything that had happened, after all I’d been through, I began to see something else ahead of me, if that makes any sense. My decision to leave the Order wasn’t made lightly, but it gave me something I never truly knew until then. It’s easiest to describe as this: my path, with my own choices, with my own relationships. My own life. ---- When I first began writing Survival, I wanted to start out with a Karen Traviss-style first-person prologue, which was originally Almec's opening bit. I instead went with Ahsoka for this format because I wanted to explore her initial emotions in the life she chose when she left the Order. I'm certain some NuCanon book down the road will explore this in greater detail, but I thought I'd take a whack at it and this is what we got. Now, as I said previously, this was omitted from the revised draft for several reasons. First off and perhaps most importantly, this subplot with Ahsoka's journey and romance just didn't fit into what I have in mind for Survival. When I looked over it in an outline, it just kind of stuck out. My main focus there is intended to be Maul's final chapter and story resolution for Mandalore. Ahsoka's next chapter is an important component as well, but this part of it just seemed excessive in that regard. Second reason: I may have had this Penny character in mind for sometime, but to everyone else, she basically came out of the blue. Sure, I established that she and Ahsoka have been "dating"—if you will—for quite some time, but a plot element this important needs a little more backstory than I've given it. Not to mention, the thought probably on your mind right now: What about Lux? Though it was clear to me that Ahsoka moved on from Lux in "Tipping Points", it seems unlikely that she would have been so distracted by him if she already had another secret relationship going. So, in short, this part of Survival got cut, but I thought it worked well as its own thing, maybe for another story down the road. A new year holds all sorts of creative potential. ;) Hope you enjoyed. 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